


Play, Baby

by FieryAngel



Series: Cockles [6]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bored Misha, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Established Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Jensen Ackles Plays Guitar, M/M, Misha Collins Plays Guitar, Multiple Sex Positions, Neck Kissing, On Set, Polyamory, Prostate Milking, Rough Sex, Switching, Teasing, Top Misha Collins, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 06:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17381690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FieryAngel/pseuds/FieryAngel
Summary: Misha doesn’t do idle. He’s happiest when he’s busy creating, learning or growing in some way. One thing he’s never tackled? The guitar. So he asks Jensen to give him lessons to fill what little free time he has. Turns out Jensen is a very demanding and distracting teacher.





	Play, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> As I always warn, this is a chronological series. Each story is a continuation, and they’re meant to be read together, but could stand alone. If you choose to only read this, just know they are very much polyamorous and committed. Condoms have long been discarded between these two. 
> 
> The way this came about: I was talking to my husband one evening after Misha posted the family band video and I mentioned how cute it would be if Jensen taught Misha guitar. He responded with “Yeah, then Jensen would randomly say, ‘Pull your pants down. I wanna suck your dick.’” My husband is super classy (ha) and kind of ships it. So, I had roll with his prompt, right? 
> 
> Sidenote: The 6th installation of this series was going to take place during the Hawaii convention, but inspiration struck for this one, so… interlude? Whatever. I’ll get to Hawaii eventually. It’ll be the 7th. Maybe. Probably.

Misha laid back in the plush pillows at the head of Jensen’s bed and opened his book, flipping to where he’d left off the night before. His mind began to wander, unable to shut off so he could relax.

He hadn’t really moved many of his things up to Vancouver as Jensen had suggested a couple months earlier. He’d begun to leave things behind a little here and there, making his mark on the condo enough to feel at home while they were filming. Misha’s presence was felt all over the space now, from the single drawer of his clothing to the pieces of cookware he’d bought that were perfect replicas of what he enjoyed cooking in at home. His favorite tea was always stocked in the cabinet over his newly bought electric kettle, and he had a favorite mug that he sought out every time he made himself a cup. He had a spare pair of running shoes at the bottom of Jensen’s closet, a stack of books on his nightstand, and a full range of every toiletry he used on a daily basis. And somewhere in this room, he’d lost his favorite belt buckle during one of their many, many frenzied sexual encounters. For all intents and purposes, Jensen’s condo was his home away from home.

They were in that somewhat settled stage of a newish relationship. Cozy, content, deeply in love, and sexually insatiable when time allowed for that sort of thing. Juggling a wife, children and a boyfriend on top of work, Random Acts, Gish, political activism and his innumerable side projects would sound like a lot to a normal person, but Misha was not normal. In fact, he prided himself in being as un-normal as humanly possible. 

He also prided himself in being good at many things, or at the very least, passable at many things and good at a fair few. He could take a fallen tree and create a lovely piece of furniture, then turn around and write a beautiful, heartfelt poem. His nimble fingers could knit a hat just as easily as they could kick start a chain saw. He was well rounded. Strong, yet soft. He refused to box himself into gender normative roles, having no issue with being good in the kitchen or getting his hands dirty in the garden, and was always looking to learn and do more. 

Simply put, Misha didn’t do idle well, and he didn’t like the idea that there were still skills out there he could learn and potentially excel at. Life was too short.

Misha was more staring at a single page now than reading as his mind refused to slow. He’d just finished judging Gishwhes, and the winners would be announced at the convention in DC in a few days. Signing all the items that would be going out to the participants soon had taken up so much of his free time recently, but everything was signed and being shipped out soon. The convention in Hawaii was coming up right after DC, and the holidays were soon after, and with that, a bit of time off. All of this had him feeling restless again, the itch to learn something new thrumming under his skin. 

As if on cue, the light strumming of an acoustic guitar drifted in from the living room, the rich notes warming Misha as he listened to Jensen singing softly to the accompaniment. As if Jensen were a siren calling out to him, Misha closed his book, setting it aside and swung his legs out of the bed, his bare feet coming in contact with the cold hardwood floor. He padded on silent steps into the living room where Jensen’s bare back was turned to him as he sat on the couch working his way through “Angeles,” his voice smooth and gorgeous and coaxing a soft smile to Misha’s face. 

Misha leaned against the wall and watched the flex of muscles in Jensen’s freckled shoulders as they moved with his strumming. After their first day filming together in a few weeks, they came home and made love, slow and sweet, Misha on top of Jensen, bowlegs wrapped tightly around his waist and desperate hands clutching his shoulders as if he’d float away if Jensen let go. After, Misha said he was tired, in spite of the early hour. Jensen had been wide awake and buzzing with energy, so he’d cleaned them up with a warm cloth, kissed Misha and left him to rest and get some much needed sleep. 

Now, listening to Jensen play, seeing him half naked with a guitar across his lap, sleep was the furthest thing from Misha’s mind.

He snuck up behind Jensen as the song came to an end, sliding his arms around Jensen’s bare shoulders and nuzzling the sensitive spot right behind his ear. Misha smiled against Jensen’s skin as his lover gasped at the unexpected touch. 

“That was beautiful. I haven’t heard you play that in so long,” Misha murmured before dropping his face down to press his lips to Jensen’s jaw.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Jensen said apologetically, turning his own head to capture Misha’s lips in a soft kiss. “I’ll put this away.”

“You didn’t. I was still awake,” Misha pressed their lips together again, kissing Jensen deep and lazy, his tongue peeking out just enough to trace the seam of Jensen’s mouth. The lips parted at Misha’s urging and the kiss grew in intensity, leaving the pair panting when it finally broke.

“Fuck, Mish. You can’t be ready to go again,” Jensen accused, a mischievous smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Misha quipped, then shook his head with a chuckle. “That’s not why I’m here, actually. Not that you aren’t irresistible and wholly distracting sitting out here half naked and singing so sweetly.”

Misha disentangled himself from Jensen then walked the short distance to the front side of the couch, standing in front of his very curious lover. He took the guitar off Jensen’s lap and placed it on the stand within arm’s reach, curiously running his fingers across the strings and drawing sound from the instrument. He lowered himself into Jensen’s lap in its place, one knee on either side of Jensen’s hips. Misha settled himself there, spreading his hands and running them over Jensen’s chest and shoulders, dropping a few kisses across his clavicles and up the column of his throat. 

“I’m bored,” Misha said, leaning in close to Jensen’s ear, smirking when Jensen shuddered under his touch and the rumble of his voice.

“With me, or in general?” Jensen asked, carefully.

Misha shifted and rolled his hips, grinding his cock against Jensen’s belly, allowing his boyfriend to feel how hard he was just from the brief contact they’d had in the previous few minutes. 

“Does it feel like I’m bored with you?” he teased, gasping as Jensen’s hands fell to his ass and squeezed, pulling their bodies more tightly together as Jensen thrust his hips upwards with a groan.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Mish,” Jensen gasped.

Misha laughed and rolled off Jensen’s lap, slumping down into the sofa beside him and shoving a hand through his unruly bedhead. “I’m bored,” he said again.

“You could finish what you started,” Jensen laughed staring down at his tented sweats, gesturing toward the bulge exaggeratedly with both hands.

“Jen,” Misha said, then sighed. “I’m serious. All the Gish shit is done and everything else I’m working on is at the house. I’m bored. I’m creatively unfulfilled.”

“I think I have some of JJ’s crayons in the hall closet,” Jensen teased, letting out a dramatic “oof!” when Misha elbowed him in the ribs. “Ok, ok. I get it. Talk to me, babe.” He put an arm around Misha’s shoulders and drew him in, smiling softly when Misha complied and cuddled into his side. He ran his fingers through the hair curling at the nape of Misha’s neck and felt Misha sigh and relax further.

“I think I need to learn something new,” Misha said thoughtfully. 

Jensen was unsurprised by Misha’s confession. He was always in awe of Misha and his inability to sit still and just _be._ “Yeah? Any ideas?”

“I was listening to you play. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The simplicity of an acoustic guitar?” He paused a moment in thought. “I’m not very musical.” Misha shrugged the best he could in the confines of Jensen’s embrace.

“It doesn’t always come naturally, Mish. You could learn,” Jensen said softly. “Maybe Billy could teach you? Or Jason?”

“Neither of them live close enough, and I don’t have a lot of time in the greenroom at conventions,” Misha argued.

“They work you too hard at those things,” Jensen said, the tiniest protective edge to his voice with the unexpected change of subject.

“It’s fine. It’s nothing I don’t agree to. I don’t want people to be disappointed, so if they ask me to do another photo op, I say sign me up. What’s the alternative? Sitting in the greenroom?” Misha said, resigned.

“If you were sitting in the greenroom, you could learn guitar,” Jensen countered.

Misha sighed, sitting up and pulling out of Jensen’s hold on him. “You seem to be forgetting the easiest, most convenient option,” he said, arching an eyebrow high in question. 

Jensen’s cheeks colored a beautiful shade of pink as he looked away from Misha. “You should learn from someone better,” he mumbled.

“Self-deprecation is my thing,” Misha teased, knocking his shoulder against Jensen’s. “Come on, teach me.”

Jensen turned to face his boyfriend with a sigh, getting caught in his hopeful, too-blue gaze. “I have to learn how to say no to you,” he mumbled before leaning in to kiss Misha soundly. 

Misha’s smile was blinding when they pulled away, and Jensen leaned in to kiss it right off his face, pushing Misha back until he was laying on the couch and he was settled on top of him. They made out deep and slow, hands roaming, mouths exploring exposed flesh, hips undulating until they were both hard and aching once more. 

Jensen pulled away slightly, looking into Misha’s lust-blown eyes from a position of control he was so rarely in. Misha looked beautiful like this, hair mussed, lips kiss-swollen, chest heaving as the breath left him in excited pants. “I do this… teach you to play? I’m in charge. You can’t question my methods. Got it?” Misha nodded and pulled Jensen down into another needy kiss, which Jensen broke almost immediately. “Ah, ah, ah. I need you to use your words,” he teased, echoing Misha’s need for consent when he plays the dom to Jensen’s sub.

“Fuck you,” Misha said, but there was no heat behind it. “Yeah, Jen. You’re in charge. I’ll even let to slap me with a ruler if I act out in class.”

“Promise?” Jensen smirked.

Misha nodded again. “It’s late. Start tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, babe. Let’s go to bed.”

They made it to bed, but it was another hour before they slept. First Misha made Jensen finger him open nice and slow, then he sunk down on Jensen’s cock and rode him relentlessly until they came hard and messy within seconds of each other. 

Just to teach him who was truly in charge here.

.  
.  
.

 

Three days later, they were as many days into their lessons and sitting in Jensen’s trailer between scenes. They’d been slipping in practice whenever they could, whether between scenes or after they got back to the condo for the night. Misha had wanted to learn as much as he could as quickly as possible so he could practice when he had time off from filming. Misha’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Jensen was enjoying watching Misha learn and grow, slow as it was.

“Fuck, you look good with a guitar in your lap,” Jensen said, watching as Misha placed his fingers on the proper strings and frets in an attempt to strum out a C chord. 

“Ugh, why can’t I get it right?” Misha groaned, completely unaccustomed to not being good at something from the get-go.

Jensen bent over him, pressing the tip of Misha’s middle finger down more firmly onto the string. “Try it now.” Misha complied and strummed, the chord coming out clean and clear. “I told you. Make sure your fingers are pressing the strings down tight enough.”

“My fingers hurt,” Misha complained, playing the chord again, this time without Jensen’s assistance. 

“You’ve milled your own lumber, you wuss,” Jensen teased. “Now play it again.” Misha did so with an eye roll. “Good. Now play me C-D-E.”

Misha swallowed nervously, placing his fingers into the correct positions for the three chords to get a feel for them before committing to them. He took a deep breath and played the first two, losing the position for the third and huffing in frustration.

“You thought this would be easy, didn’t you?” Jensen said with a chuckle. “It is fun watching you get frustrated, babe. Ladies and gentlemen, Misha Collins is human after all!”

“Shut up,” Misha grumbled, placing his fingers into position and playing the E a few times before going into the chord progression Jensen asked him to play and nailing it. “There. Happy now?”

“Hmm,” Jensen hummed out happily, leaning in to reward Misha with a soft kiss. "Very good, baby. You got an F in you?”

Misha scowled at him before carefully positioning his hand and strumming the strings again. 

“G”

Misha played it.

“A”

Nailed it again.

“C-D-E-F-G-A”

“Fuck you,” Misha growled, taking his hands off the guitar to flex his long, aching fingers. 

“Later. Now play. Remember, I’m the teacher and you’re the student. You have to listen to me,” Jensen taunted, biting his lip to keep from laughing at the look of disdain Misha was flashing him.

Misha took a deep breath, then slowly played each chord perfectly.

“Faster, baby,” Jensen said with a smirk. 

“Are you trying to distract me with innuendo?”

“Is it working?”

Misha took that as a challenge and played the chord progression as fast as he could manage, raising an eyebrow at his lover proudly. “No.”

“Good. I wonder if you could do it while distracted. I want you to play those six chords, in repetition. Don’t stop, no matter what I do or say.” Jensen moved to sit to Misha’s left, tucking himself behind the neck of the guitar and leaning in close to Misha. Misha turned an untrusting eye on him, and Jensen just shrugged with a sly smirk. “Play, baby.”

Misha began to strum the chords, slowly, making sure each finger was positioned perfectly and the strings were pressed to the frets tightly. He wanted to get this right, to prove to himself he could do it, no matter what Jensen threw at him.

“Your hands are perfect for the guitar, Mish. Did you know that? Those long, slender fingers, the way they wrap around the neck. I know how much talent lies in those hands of yours, how they can create such beautiful things,” Jensen said conversationally as Misha worked his way through the chords and started over again. “And how they can take me apart as you work them inside me, hitting my sweet spot over and over again until I’m a sobbing… begging… mess,” Jensen leaned in close to Misha’s ear, his voice low and raspy as he drew out every word. He blew into Misha’s ear and laughed as Misha strummed just a little too hard and his fingers slipped out of position, playing a sound that was in no way considered music.

“Fucker,” Misha grumbled, starting the chord progression over again.

Jensen left him be, listening as Misha nailed the chords straight through twice before leaning in to kiss the spot behind Misha’s ear, right where the cute little pieces of hair curled when they got too long. Misha gasped at the press of his lips, but played on, slower, but accurately. 

“Very good,” Jensen murmured against Misha’s flushed skin before licking a stripe and sucking.

Misha moaned, every ounce of will power stretched to the brink as he tried to focus on playing the chords. He played through the progression perfectly then cocked an eyebrow at his lover with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“Do your worst, Ackles,” Misha challenged, turning his attention back to the guitar.

Jensen chuckled and sat back into the couch cushions, letting Misha get cozy and confident before speaking again. “Change it up. A-D-G-C-F-E.”

“Fuck,” Misha mumbled, his hand working through the new order of the chords a few times before he attempted to play. He fumbled twice and Jensen started snickering. 

“Easy when it’s just repetition, but if you’re ever gonna play songs, you better know those chords like the back of your hand. It has to become muscle memory to be able to move from one chord to the next, that’s why we’re changing the order,” Jensen said, Misha nodding along as he spoke. “Try again, baby.”

Misha drew in a deep breath. “A-D-G-C-F-E,” he whispered to himself, starting to play the progression slowly, making sure to get it right. He had this deep need to make Jensen proud, to prove he could do this. 

Jensen drew closer as Misha worked his way through the chords one by one, slipping a hand behind his back and running it slowly up and over a firm shoulder. “Mmm,” he hummed. “God, I love how you feel under my hands, Mish. So strong. These muscles… your ability to press me into the mattress and hold me down while you fuck me. Fuck, do you know what it does to me when you leave me powerless beneath you?”

“A-D-G-C-F-E,” Misha murmured, trying to block out Jensen’s words and the way his hand was slipping down now, dipping into the waistband of his costume pants to squeeze his ass. A second hand joined the action, reaching between the guitar and Misha’s lap, working his belt, and then the button of his pants open. Still, Misha played, focused on the order of the chords he was playing.

“Your cock,” Jensen breathed out against Misha’s neck as his hand slipped into Misha’s pants and cupped the rapidly swelling budge he found there. “I love your cock. I love the weight of it on my tongue when I suck you off. How it twitches like its reaching for me when I pull away. The taste of your cum when I swallow you down.” His teeth bit down on Misha’s earlobe and Misha sucked in a sharp breath, his hands stilling on the strings. “Play, baby. Play or I’ll stop.”

Misha sucked in a deep breath, releasing it as he strummed the guitar, the chords coming slower now as he tried to keep his composure. Jensen was stroking him, his fist moving at a snail’s pace as his teeth and tongue dragged over the tendon straining in his neck. 

“So thick,” Jensen spoke again, voice deep and thick with arousal. “God, baby, when you slide into me, you stretch me so good. Split me right in two, don’t you, Mish?”

Misha growled, playing faster to distract himself from the sinful way Jensen’s wrist twisted on every upstroke, jerking him in a smooth rhythm. He felt a thumb swipe over the head, collecting the wet dribble of pre-cum that had collected there. Then the hand withdrew and Misha stopped playing long enough to look over at his lover and see his tongue dart out to lick the emission from his thumb. Jensen’s eyes slid shut and he moaned low and deep as he savored every drop with gusto, sucking the thumb between his plump, pink lips.

Jensen finished sucking the tip of his thumb and blatantly eye-fucked his very flustered boyfriend in the process. Misha’s eyes had darkened with lust and just a touch of anger, and Jensen knew it was a matter of time before the guitar was discarded and he was pinned to the nearest surface.

“Play, baby,” he commanded. 

Misha played the A chord in peace before Jensen’s hand returned to pull his cock free completely and break his concentration. He swallowed thickly, rolling his head on his shoulders to ease the tension in his neck and played the chord progression with his bottom lip clamped tightly between his teeth. 

“I wanna suck your cock,” Jensen purred in his ear.

Misha snorted. “There’s not enough room between the guitar and my body.” He played on stubbornly just to see what Jensen would do next. His fingers were stinging and aching and the chords were coming out less than perfect, but he was determined to ignore the fingers wrapping around his cock and the hand that was loosening his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt deftly. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Jensen whispered. 

Misha played the chord progression through once more in its entirety before speaking again. “They’ll be coming to call us back to set soon.”

“You always have an answer for everything, don’t you baby?” Jensen teased as he pulled Misha’s shirt open and nibbled on his sharp clavicle. The guitar playing halted as Jensen began to suck a mark on the newly exposed flesh. Misha’s head fell back in invitation and Jensen accepted, surging forward and pushing the guitar out of the way. It fell to the carpeted floor with a dull thud and in an instant Misha was hauling Jensen into his lap.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Misha snapped, pulling Jensen into a bruising kiss. “Such a brat…So needy… Can’t stand my attention on something other than you, is that it?” He was kissing Jensen between every accusation, not allowing his lover to get a word in edgewise. “You say you want to be in charge, but you’re just a bratty sub at heart, aren’t you?”

Jensen was lost to Misha, moaning into his mouth as his hands tugged the blue tie free and tossed it aside. He pushed the shirt from Misha’s shoulders next and his own shirt followed it to the floor soon after. Misha was rough with him, strong hands digging into his ass and teeth sinking sharply into his shoulder as he cried out. Then the world was spinning as Misha stood, nudging the guitar aside with his foot before he laid Jensen on the floor of the trailer, the bed just this side of too far away to bother with. 

“Did you lock the door?” Misha asked as his elegant fingers worked the fastenings of Jensen’s jeans open. 

Jensen nodded and started shoving at the pants that were open and hanging tantalizingly low on Misha’s perfect hips. Two sets pf pants and underwear were removed and tossed aside and Jensen’s legs were parted and shoved upward, exposing his ass to his boyfriend.

“You planned this,” Misha accused, tapping the plug Jensen had become so fond of using since he’d gotten it to surprise Misha a couple months back. 

Jensen whimpered, nodding. “Yeah, Mish. Knew I could work you up enough to fuck me. Wanted to be ready.”

Misha slid the plug free, tossing it aside and thrusting two fingers into Jensen’s waiting hole, crooking them to massage his prostate for a moment. “So fucking slick.” He groaned as he felt the lube left behind by the plug.

“I got one of those little lube injector thingies,” Jensen mumbled.

“Jesus,” Misha breathed. “Such a fucking boy scout.” He ran his fingers over the head of his cock, using some of the excess lube to slick himself up and then in a breath, he was sliding home, burying himself balls deep with a groan.

“That’s it, baby, fuck me,” Jensen whined.

“The lesson is over. You’re not in charge anymore,” Misha growled with a sharp snap of his hips. 

“Fuck,” Jensen moaned, the force of the thrust pushing him a few inches up the carpet, leaving a rug burn on his ass in his wake. He clawed at Misha’s shoulders, fingertips digging into muscle, holding on for dear life as the man folded him in half and started pounding into him forcefully. The angle was perfect, the head of Misha’s cock dragging perfectly over his prostate, the stimulation more than enough to have his own cock leaking on his belly in mere minutes.

Misha gripped Jensen behind his knees, pushing them further toward the man’s shoulders. Jensen’s ass was lifted up off the floor, open completely to Misha’s relentless fucking, his prostate was being nailed and he was almost sobbing with the combination of pleasure and pain his lover inflicted on him.

Jensen’s world was spinning again as Misha sat back on his haunches, pulling Jensen with him until their sweaty chests were pressed together and Jensen was straddling him. They worked together so easily, their bodies fitting and moving together as if they were made for this. Jensen was riding Misha now, head thrown back, frenzied and fast, rolling his hips just the right way to keep his sweet spot stimulated and his cock dribbling pre-cum between them. Misha sucked on the hollow of his throat and his hands gripped his ass, guiding Jensen up and down on his cock at the perfect pace. 

“Kiss me,” Misha commanded, and Jensen’s head fell forward and dipped down, capturing Misha’s lips with his own. He buried his hands in Misha’s hair, messing up the camera-ready hairstyle throughly and he fisted the locks and held his boyfriend to the hot, messy kiss. 

“Fuck, Mish,” Jensen whimpered when the kiss broke. His thighs were burning with fatigue, and as if Misha could tell, he lifted Jensen and set him on the couch before settling between his spread knees and burying himself deep once more. 

“Come for me,” Misha growled as he rolled his hips sinfully, grinding into Jensen’s prostate as the man whimpered and his cock twitched. “Come on, baby. Come on my cock.”

Jensen could feel his orgasm building and he wanted to come on command for Misha, but he just needed something more. “Faster,” he pleaded, and Misha snapped his hips more furiously, pounding into him brutally, sweat trickling between his flushed pecs as Jensen tracked the movement of the droplets with wide, green eyes that were darkened with arousal. 

“That’s it, baby. Right there. Just like that,” he encouraged, moaning as Misha thrust into him a few more times and just like that, he was coming hard in hot, wet spurts across his chest and abdomen, a few stray drops hitting him on the underside of his chin. 

Misha didn’t relent, dragging out his orgasm and milking every drop from Jensen before he finally slammed in hard and allowed himself to come deep inside him with a growl. His hips slowed, rolling slowly to ride out his climax as Jensen twitched and whined with overstimulation. 

Misha stilled but stayed buried, leaning in to lick the cum from Jensen’s chin, then trailing downward to lap up every drop that covered his body and pinch his nipples between his teeth. His cock slipped out as he moved lower, and Jensen could feel cum trickling out of his ass. He groaned at the feeling of it. It was hot, wet and filthy, but he always loved it. Loved the feeling of being marked inside and out by the gorgeous blue-eyed creature that now hovered over him, sliding his fingers through the mess he’d made and into Jensen’s ass to prod as his sweet spot again. Jensen jerked with the sensation and moaned wantonly.

“Mmm,” Misha hummed. “We have to explore that someday. I bet I could milk a few orgasms out of you in a row. Leave you strung out on my fingers, coming dry, and begging for me to stop. But I wouldn’t stop. I’d fill you up and fuck the last one out of you, leave you shaking and unable to walk, sore and feeling me for days.”

“Fuck, Mish,” Jensen whimpered. 

“I could do it right now, I bet. Do you think I could wring another orgasm out of you right now, Jen?” Misha crooked his fingers, massaging Jensen’s prostate while he listened to his lover make the sweetest sounds as he rocked back against Misha’s hand. Jensen’s cock gave a valiant twitch as Misha leaned down and licked it from base to tip. 

“Fuck,” Jensen gasped as white hot sparks shot through his body under Misha’s expert touch. He could feel his pleasure building, the skilled fingers inside him working him over until he was writhing and whispering “please,” over and over.

‘That’s it, baby. Let go,” Misha urged, smirking as Jensen’s cock erupted again, spilling over his stomach while Jensen gasped and clawed at the couch cushions. Misha’s fingers stilled, and he lapped up his lover’s release again, savoring it on his tongue and swallowing it down, his eyes locked on Jensen’s as he watched him in awe. 

“Holy fuck, Mish. We definitely have to do that again.” Jensen breathed out as Misha slid his fingers free and worked his body between Jensen’s and the back of the couch for a post-coital snuggle. 

They laid there together panting in the aftermath, flushed, sweaty and completely sated. Jensen curled into Misha’s side, throwing a leg over his thigh and running a hand over his defined chest. They basked in the afterglow for a few minutes, Misha’s hand running through Jensen’s hair, soft kisses exchanged as the sweat cooled on their bodies.

“You _will_ get there, Mish… with the guitar. I know you. You’ll get there,” Jensen said when it finally felt right to break the comfortable silence.

Misha chuckled and shrugged, the movement jostling Jensen a bit. “Perhaps,” he mused. “I’ll never be good enough to actually play for people, but it’s fun. Especially when lessons end like this.”

“Someday, Mish. Someday you’ll learn a song, and you’ll share it. Like I said, I know you. You won’t be able to help it.” Jensen said, laying a kiss on the freckle above Misha’s nipple that he loved so damned much.

Misha smiled, kissing the top of Jensen’s head. His boyfriend’s unshakeable confidence in him was infectious. “Perhaps,” he echoed. “It might take me a year, with all these distractions, but perhaps.”


End file.
